


The Way She Laughs

by Mouse9



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: ALL THE FLUFF, Day Six, F/M, Love the way you, Molly Hooper Appreciation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-17
Updated: 2018-02-17
Packaged: 2019-03-19 17:41:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13709421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mouse9/pseuds/Mouse9
Summary: Molly Hooper had a distinct, unique sort of laugh.





	The Way She Laughs

Molly Hooper had a distinct, unique sort of laugh. 

It was sort of a half giggle that morphed into a sort of a chortle with a soft snort in the middle.  It always sounded as if she was amused with herself or that her very own laugh had made her laugh all the harder.  

It was the type of laugh that set her out amongst her peers, a laugh that Sherlock Holmes could pick out of a crowd in an instant. 

It wasn’t just her laugh, her entire body joined in.  Her shoulders shook with each beat of her laugh, almost curving inward, rounding her shoulder.  She always shook her head a little at the end as if she were silently amused at the way her laughter left her. 

If she were really laughing at something, be it the telly or a story at the pub that she found truly hysterical, her entire body almost caved in on itself.  Her laughter was in no means what one would consider “lady like”.  She laughed loud, a more boisterous version of her normal laugh, ending in guffaws and snorts that left her laughing harder as she turned red from lack of oxygen.  Her eyes would tear up and she would clutch her stomach, gasping for breath all the while giggling as she tried to calm herself down.  Again, it was a laugh that set itself apart from the crowd.   She was completely unapologetic in her laughter.

Her laugh caught people off guard, would cause them to laugh at something like that coming from such a tiny thing.  The first time John heard it, he chucked looking at her as if he wasn’t sure where she’d come from.  Mary’s response was to burst into laughter herself.

Sherlock…he merely smiled.  He couldn’t help it.  He thought it was one of her most endearing qualities and the sound of her laughter had always made him smile. 

Which is why, when he heard the loud snort from across the crowd of people followed by the bright laughter of his god daughter, a smile came to his lips unbidden. 

“Good Lord,” Mycroft said, stopping in the middle of what he was saying to stare across the room as if he could see who’d made that noise.  “What was that?”

“Pardon me,” he said, turning on his heels and walking across the crowded room towards the sound.  He found Molly, holding Rosie in her arms, in the company of Mrs. Hooper, who was attempting to chastise her daughter.

“I had thought you would have grown out of that ridiculous laugh by now,” the older woman said.  “It’s not very lady-like and frankly, quite embarrassing.”

“Not at all Mrs. Hooper,” Sherlock said, smoothly stepping in between his wife of three hours and his new mother-in-law.  “In fact, her laugh is one of the things I love about her.”

He felt Molly lean against his shoulder as the older woman merely smiled and moved away. 

“Thank you.”  Her voice was low enough that only the three of them could hear her, her lips brushing against his sleeve.  He tugged lightly on her waist, feeling the satin and lace under his fingertips, pulling her in front of him.  In between them, Rosie, in her yellow princess dress, grinned happily, her fingers reaching up to pat his face.

“It’s true,” his voice was just as low, a conversation for only them.  If Rosie heard, well, she wouldn’t tell anyone.  “I have always loved your ridiculous laugh.”

She smiled up at him, her face beaming.  “It is a bit ridiculous.”

“And completely you.  I would hate if you ever tried to stifle it.”

“For you,” she teased.  “I will always cackle my fool head off.”

Rosie squealed in delight.  “Kisses,” she chirped happily.  “Kisses.”

Laughing, the they pressed kisses on either of Rosie’s cheeks.  Sherlock then pressed his lips against Molly’s, soft and tender, full of promises. 

“Promise me you won’t ever lose your laugh, Mrs. Holmes.”  He whispered against her lips.  He felt them curve upward.

“I can safely promise you that, Mr. Holmes.”  She whispered back.  


End file.
